pawn_of_pawns

Because you never know what sort of trouble eavesdropping will get you into.
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Wilma K. Fergus leaned back slightly in her chair at the café. Outside it was still snowing and she knew getting home would be a mess, but at the moment she was quietly resting by the artificial fire. She took a sip of her now cool hot-cocoa. Although she didn’t like coffee very much, she loved the environments of cafes. They were so much more friendly than restaurants, and Wilma found herself perfectly at home in the various cafes around her apartment.

Today, Susan’s Café was practically empty. The cashiers were standing behind the counter, casually joking, and the only other customers were two old women sitting in the corner, speaking in hushed voices. Wilma held her breath and tried to hear what they were saying.

Eavesdropping was a particularly shameful, yet addictive, habit of hers and was not something she was particularly proud of. Despite their hushed voices, the solitude of the café made overhearing the old women’s conversation fairly easy. They appeared to be talking about another friend of theirs and were making random comments on her life style; gossiping like women tend to do.

“Have you seen the condition of her house?”

“Yes, the poor thing has let it go. But, I suppose that is what happens as time goes on.”

“And her hair? Goodness, she’s such a mess lately.”

“Well, you have to admit, it has been rough for her. Her cousin just died, after all”

Wilma felt a twinge of sympathy for this woman. Her own cousin died recently, and she was very close to him. Wilma was an only child, and Ron was the nearest thing she had to a brother.

Listening more to the conversation, Wilma learned that the woman was also very intimate with her cousin who was also hit by a drunk driver. How coincidental.

“I suppose you can’t blame her for being so scattered lately.”

“No, I suppose not. But it’s been two months; she should really get on with her life.”

Those bitches! Wilma thought. She knew that to this woman’s face they would act all kind and caring, but behind her back they had no sympathy at all. She almost had a mind to tell them off, before she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be listening in the first place…

“But, dear me, I do believe she’s listening!”

Wilma froze and in doing so she almost fell out of her chair. She balanced herself out at the last moment; the front two metal legs hit the rug with a dull thud.

“Oh my, I think you’re right, Marge.”

Slowly, so as to not attract attention if this were all just a terrible mistake, Wilma turned her head to look at the old women in the corner. They returned her gaze with harsh, cold stares. Her heart dropped and a cold fear rose from the pit of her stomach; Wilma had never been so afraid of little old ladies before. She racked her brain trying to remember if she knew them from somewhere, not recalling anything.

The older one, Marge, sighed deeply. “Eavesdropping has always been a problem with her, hasn’t it Eve?” She stood up slowly, looking exactly like an old, decrepit, harmless woman as she did so.

“True, these youngsters have no sense of respect. Eavesdropping can get you into a lot of trouble, can’t it Marge?” Eve began to stand up as well, and Wilma bolted from her chair. The metal chair tipped over and landed loudly, as she ran out the door, ignoring the odd looks she got from the employees. She didn’t think she had ever run so fast in her entire life.

Her coat was still in the café, Wilma realized as she burst into the cold December air, but it was sacrificed. Nothing in this world could make her go back into that café for it; in fact, she doubted she could ever return there.

Why the two little old ladies frightened her so much or what she thought they would do to her, she could not say. She ran for several blocks before she looked behind her and realized that they were not following her. Wilma was quite out of shape and by now she was panting very heavily, but she kept walking, only now with much less urgency.

That event did not make her feel safe and she could feel a small lump of worry building up in her throat. Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation, her rational mind told her. Perhaps they were friends of her grandma’s or distant relatives. Very distant relatives. She had over reacted in the café, panicking like that, and now she felt foolish. She was also freezing and she rubbed her arms vigorously, tenderly missing her coat.

Quickly, Wilma dodged into a store in order to warm up and to clear her mind.
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Notes:

I'm not too sure what to do with this story. I have a rough second and third chapter drafted up already, but I'm not sure if I like the direction I took it in.

At first, I thought maybe there could be a conspiracy behind the old ladies *spying* on Wilma, but now I don't want to do that. Mostly because that would make no sense unless I decided to make Wilma someone "special," which I don't want to do.

And that's a few of the problems I've come across myself. Lord knows what I've missed. So, yeah, any comments, criticism and/or suggestions are appreciated.

But, before I go I want to point out that the K. in Wilma's name is an homage to Kafka. Heheh.

(Edit: And I've already noticed a misplaced word.)
(Edit: Coco is fixed.)

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elmo jackson

Pawn of pawns,

This story has the potential to be something special, but I don’t think you’ll ever achieve that goal with the world limit you offer here.

The idea of a little eavesdropping, and what one might discover from it, is in itself a very interesting concept.

I think, William Shakespeare, said in some similar way that you should never introduce something like a gun, if you are not going to use it. When you imply that the cousin’s accidental death might not have been an accident, I think the reader expects more.

Thanks for posting,

Elmo Jackson

darthwader

This type of story is not normally my thing, but you had me intrigued the whole way through.

You did a great job at making Wilma's overreaction seem natural.


I don't really have any advice, but if you keep mucking around with your next few chapters, I am sure you will figure out a plot that you'll like. Keep it up.

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Stewart

It was Chekhov. If there's a gun in the first act it should be fired in the last.

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elmo jackson

Connor Wolf,

Thanks for the correction.

Thanks for posting

Blackhawk_t

You mentioned you had a misspelled word, and I'm assuming this was it.

As far as the story line goes. It's good, but seems slow to develop. Which is nice, because it builds up to the action at the end. I am interested in what happens from here. I hope you finish it so that we can find out.

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captain_shev

Mmm, I quite liked this - certainly it needs more flesh, but as a start to a story, I'd definitely read on. It's a nice idea to base a story on, and could end up really interesting... looking forward to reading the rest of it.

Haruka

Good start, you caught me until the very end but I hope expect you don't end it here, I'll look forward to the second part ^^

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lucasloredo

I agree with Elmo, I think you could really develop on the idea of eavesdropping getting you into trouble. You had mentioned going the conspiracy route, which I think could be a good beginning of a mystery novel. Although I agree that maybe the two old ladies spying on Wilma might not be the way to go, It could be possible that Wilma overhears a plot of the old ladies' . . . you know, lies, murder, insurance claims . . . all that good stuff

anyways, good work so far. Keep it up! It's a bit hard to critique now because I'm not sure where you want to go with it . . . but in another update or so I could probably help you out some more . . . !

best
Lucas

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pawn_of_pawns

Oh wow, thank's for all the advice/ compliments.

(And for pointing out coco, that was a nother mistake I missed.)

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"When I was young I used to have this nightmare about dying. I used to lie awake at night screaming. All my schoolfriends went to heaven or hell, and I was sent to Southend."
--Douglas Adams